The Wrong End of the Stick
by SailorSilvanesti
Summary: <html><head></head>After witnessing a tender moment between the newly-returned Aragorn and his Elven companion, Eowyn mis-reads the situation...especially as she sees the pendant exchanged. Hurt and 'betrayed', she lashes out...how will it end! Slightly AU, no Slash. R&R!</html>
1. Chapter 1: The Agony & The Ecstasy of

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings, in literary or audiovisual form...nor the characterrs, more's the pity! _TT_-_TT_**

**In this Story: Eowyn, may _slightly_, _accidentally_, _totally_ get the wrong idea...when the pendant is exchanged...**

**_Story Idea From:_ I was watching the Movie, and if you freeze her face at this _exact scene_...you will notice she sems to be having_ completely_ the wrong thoughts [for a non-slash writer/lover] at the time, I was like, _someone needs to Fanfic that_! So here it is, in all it's weird, mistakery, Glory! **

**~~~***ENJOY!***~~~**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: The Agony &amp; The Ecstasy of Eowyn<strong>

**~)0(~**

He was lost...lost forever.

Her heart was pained, never again would he ride up upon his horse, strange companions ever at his sides, the Elf and Dwarf...She knew they also secretly mourned, but hers was grief of the heart...

Though she noticed that the Dwarf withheld his speech in favour of silence, and the Elf...the Elf looked distraught and soul-torn...as if he too felt her heart's grief.

Which puzzled the Shield Maiden, _why would_..._ah!_ but Elves were strange creatures; they knew not Death in all its forms and guises, other than that of the battlefield...so it must be a strange sensation to lose another...yes, that _must_ be the cause...

Eowyn dwindled in her mind, fingers searching over the worn leather of her father's sheath, sword long gone...her heart had been torn that day, watching as he fell. At least now, under Symbelmyne, his body was at rest, she remembered the Grief from then and prayed it was not knocking at her door.

Her heart could not bear the sorrow, nor the crushing sadness, she longed for Eomer to rush through the entrance, decrying all this madness...but she had seen it in her Uncle's eyes, the soft, unyielding compassion...in the way he patted the Elf; spoke quietly to the Dwarf...

Aragorn was Gone.

Dead upon the Battlefield, felled by an Orc, or a Warg or some-such beast...but no, she had been told, it was a worse fate that befell him…he had _fallen_. Dragged to his death over a cliff, fatefully engaged in a battle with some misshapen creature of Saruman's devising, no doubt...Eowyn shuddered at the implications, her heart raced as she imagined the swift fall.

But what pained her heart more was the sudden stop…she, of all people, knew water was not a comforting blanket to soften your fall, she had seen many a warrior break bones when striking water from great heights…

She shuddered in the silence, the solitude…her mind whirred.

~)0(~

Of course, she now knew he had been promised to another…an Elven maiden of distant origin, whose heart broke as they were torn from each other; he to battle for his people, she to the mysterious lands beyond this world…

To know that pierced her very soul, but still the love and adoration she held for the Ranger and King-to-be had remained true; she had hoped, in the instant after she had asked after the pendant, when he paused and cast his companions –particularly the Elf- a strange glance, that perhaps, maybe…but no, she had heard of the one he longed for.

He spoke as if she was by his side, side by side in this adventure…but his eyes spoke of the distance between them, there was no laughter but pain and sorrow; yet a resolute sense of duty that bound them, that allowed him to leave and partake of this Quest. It was what she admired most about the man, his strength of character…

It seemed that strength had ultimately failed him, as it had so many other men in the history of this world…

Her musing was cut short by a gruff voice saying something to the fair eleven archer, the Dwarf patted a green-clad arm and then turned, moving towards her slowly; he paused and patted her kindly on the arm, a very fatherly gesture, smiling…or at least, she was under the assumption he was smiling. It was hard to tell under that scraggly beard of his…but his eyes smiled, despite the pain that shone in their depths.

"Ach, Lass…don't be fretting now, he was a mighty man and we'll all miss him, but there is much to be done to save your people afore we can safely grieve…" he spoke words of wisdom, to which she responded, "You are right, Master Gimli, I- I have been lax in my attentions…"

He patted her kindly again, "Nay, Lass, ye was just a-grievin' a friend, which you have every right to! Though not at the present time, blasted Orcs'll be here shortly…and I'll wager there are many women to counsel and children to reassure…"

She smiled, nodding slightly, gaze wavering on the Elf again, who seemed to gaze silently at nothing… "And what of your companion? Does he fare well, is there anything I can do to help…?" she inquired, concerned. Gimli shook his head, "Nay…it is a sad state of affairs…from what I gather, he and those blasted sons of Elrond practically raised Aragorn, and they were never truly prepared to watch him die of age, but to lose him like this…"

Gimli looked at her; she felt her mouth hanging open in shock, "I'll wager Aragorn told you how old he was? Aye, they have known him from his first breath…especially Legolas.

He was the one who rescued the infant from his dead mother's arms and made for Rivendell, knowing his father would have the infant killed should he take it to Mirkwood. The King has great distaste for mortals of any kind since before history was written! Insufferable fool he is!"

There was a lot of information in that verbal tirade, Eowyn blinked and tried to fit it all together, then shook her head and made to move away…Gimli steadfastly held on, squeezing her arm in what she took to be comfort, before he hissed, "Hold your horses, lassie! I think something you will want to see is about to occur…"

The Shieldmaiden followed his gaze to the Elf, whose eyes were suddenly alight, standing upright stiffly and gazing at something far beyond what any of them could see…

He looked back to Gimli and whispered something near inaudible, "_Open the Gates…_"

~)0(~

Suddenly the Dwarf was gone, massive slabs of timber creaked in protest as the gates swung open; her heart near stopped beating in her chest as she saw a familiar figure rode through into

Helm's Deep. Even rugged, bleeding and filthy as he was, there was an air of regality about him…an indefinable quality that bespoke of determination and leadership…Hasufel instinctively paused in the midst of the crowd and he dismounted.

The unmistakable roar of the Dwarf's admonishments echoed up to where she stood, trembling with relief and joy…eyes watering, though she suppressed that urge; turning, Eowyn paused when she found the post the Elf had diligently kept since arriving, abandoned.

Though dismissed it offhand and ran ahead; racing to a spot where she may ambush the man before he entered her Uncle's halls…

~)0(~

It was there, on the steps of her their so-called stronghold, that her heart shattered and she remained wide-eyed in disbelief…

~~~Aragorn had strode up the stairs, eyes downcast as he reserved all his energy to just making it inside, when she had seen him pull up short. Eowyn remembered frowning, wondering why…until she saw the softly-glowing figure before the Ranger, and realized the Elf had halted him.

Silently berating herself for not rushing up and greeting him first, but realizing this meeting was important for both of them; and so, concealed herself in a secreted place to watch…

They spoke back and forth in another language, Elvish she presumed; strangely, the Elf had a look of amusement on his face as he surveyed the half-drowned and bedraggled man…to which Aragorn had responded by laughing, clasping a companionable hand to the other's shoulder…seeming to stop himself from drawing the other into a firm embrace.

-Eowyn had come to realize Elves disliked outward shows of affection, at least, before mortal eyes, that is, and it made her wonder what it would be like in their great cities…how they interacted…but her thoughts were interrupted in one World-shattering moment.

Legolas gazed softly into the human's eyes and proffered a hand, silently asking for the other's in return; a rough, tanned hand was outstretched in response…a pale hand unclenched and revealed the beautiful, ornate jewel that Aragorn always wore…

The man looked speechless, gratitude and love shining forth from his expression, eyes and body language, as he took the pendant in his own hand, reflexively clenching about it; like he would never let it go again…

Again, there seemed an impulsive need to throw himself at the Elf and partially strangle him out of affection, but the light dimmed as he glanced at the pendant, battle-weariness returning to his gaze; but the love still shone in his eyes when he gazed at…

It was then she gasped in understanding…immediately busying herself and pretending to have found something upon the ground, as the Elf turned his gaze in her direction…he smiled at her and followed Aragorn inside.

Only then did she allow the shock and betrayal to fill the void her love for him had left within her soul, Aragorn…Legolas…the pendant…it all made sense!

The glances, how they spoke to each other in Elvish, so the men would not know! How the Elf would rarely speak to any other besides the Ranger…the anguish of the Fair creature when the man had been lost…

Oh…she could do nothing but gape, wondering all the while why he would lie to her…lie about having a maiden waiting when clearly, he did not, his so-called 'maiden' rode at his side?

So many things did not make sense…

**TBC?**

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I do have another in the pipeline: <em>Chapter 2 - The Long-Suffering of Legolas...<em>**

**I would be eternally grateful if you could Review, or even just let me know where you think the story's heading!^^**

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	2. Chapter 2: The LongSuffering of Legolas

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of it's [epicly, wonderful] associated Characters...though I wouldn;t mind getting my hands on Legolas...*wink* XD!**

**Please Read & Review!^^ ENJOY!^^**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: The Long-Suffering of Legolas…<strong>

**~)0(~**

He felt her ire before she even entered the room, and so, studiously avoided eye-contact with the Shieldmaiden of Rohan, wondering as to the cause of her sudden anger…

Surely she should be over-joyed at Aragorn's return?

Humans, by definition, were puzzling creatures, but if from what he had observed held true…their womenfolk were even stranger! Especially this warrioress, who seemed intent on boring two circular holes in betwixt his shoulder blades…yet he ignored the attention in favour of listening to the Rohirric King's idea.

It was not exactly a master strategy, more of a 'Hide behind a rock and throw stones at the Enemy' kind of plan that would ultimately end in death, especially against such over-whelming odds…and yet there was still hope, had not Gandalf prophesied victory?

Aragorn sensed his tension and moved closer, resting a calming hand on his green-clad arm, covertly; he smiled at his 'little brother' and nodded towards the table coated in maps and officious-looking scrolls, with an amused expression on his face.

Gimli nudged them both in the hips, making a soft 'harrumph!' noise in the back of his throat…muttering something about _'Bloody fools…'_; he resisted the urge to laugh, as there was a significant chance it might be misconstrued…even if the [loosely-termed] Battle Plans before them were laughable…

~)0(~

When finally the long-winded _edan_ King finally ceased speaking, Legolas resisted the urge to sigh and relief and run out the doors of this too-small room of stone…and there it was again, Aragorn's hand, patting his arm softly and muttering things only Elven hearing could pick up upon.

"_Calm, Gwador-nin, calm…the meeting is near its completion, we will be outside shortly…can you resist the urge to run from this place until then…?"_

An imperceptible nod answered the scrutinizing gaze he received from the Ranger, who smiled and loudly made some excuse or other to leave, "Come, Legolas, Gimli, I must speak to you both…" he said aloud, gesturing them to follow. The Dwarf walked swiftly by his side, keeping up with his own long-legged stride, so as to get them out into the semi-sunshine and breeze as quickly as possible.

Nearing the stables, Aragorn turned upon Legolas, "_Gwador-nin_, you _must_ tell me next time you become uncomfortable indoors, otherwise I cannot help you! And I do not think it would do for your Father to hear that you ran screaming from a building…even if it was made from tightly-compressed stone…" smirked the Human, insufferably.

Gimli made his presence known, "Ah, Laddie! I cannot understand it! How is it you can live in the Palace of Mirkwood, and yet have a fear of caves? You Elves are full of riddles and double-speak…a plain answer would be appreciated this time…" he glared meaningfully at Legolas.

Who frowned, "The Halls of my Father are not Caves, _Dwarf_! The entrance is merely hidden to the world and requires entrance via the trees or an underground passage…and it is not just_ I _who has no great love for enclosed spaces, even the great Lady Galadriel fears to be caught in a small room, trapped forever!" he threw back, to which the irritating creature merely nodded, stroked his beard and looked thoughtful.

It was then he noticed a fourth heartbeat in the vicinity, too close to be one of the men in the Armory, or even simply someone apart of the throng of bodies over yonder, pressed against one another…he shook his head, finding claustrophobic thoughts washing over him again, and focused on Aragorn's voice again, ignoring the mystery of the eavesdropper for now.

~)0(~

Behind a nearby wall, Eowyn breathed a soft sigh of relief, she had been under the impression he had heard her…not even coming close to guessing the truth; that her own _body_ had betrayed her presence by its very nature!

So, this Prince of Elves…as she had come to realize him to be had a small issue with dark, airless spaces, did he? She could truly relate, she personally feared a cage…to be trapped until the last threads of life had fallen from her feeble grasp…

And what of this strange endearment Aragorn continuously called him, "Gwador-nin'? Was that some form of Elvish for _Beloved_? My _Love_? What could it _mean_?

She knew he did not refer to Gimli by such a title, so it had to have some special meaning to the both of them…and yet, it only served to infuriate her further that the Elf had seemed so oblivious to her presence at the War Council.

Or worse still, that he had sensed her and not considered Eowyn enough of a threat to respond…not to mention the way Aragorn had continuously touched his arm, it should be her arm he stroked…soothingly?

Suddenly things began to make sense, the Stronghold room in which the men plotted their war strategies was small, well-built of several tons of rock…_dark_ for all intensive purposes…had the Elf been afraid?

A malicious plan began to fester in her mind, scaring even herself with it's deviousness…

~)0(~

If the impending battle was not enough to deal with, there was also Eowyn's strange behavior to deal with…what had prompted such strange and unusual actions from her?

He simply could not understand it, suddenly it was as if she was against him, yet he had done nothing to garner her hatred or ill-favour in any way! Indeed they had had a good rapport before this…strangeness had occurred…

He mentioned it to Gimli in passing, who laughed in return, "Oh, Lad…Women are strange folk, a species all to themselves…if she deems you've done wrong in her eyes, I would be getting on my knees and begging for forgiveness! But, as it's you, I would recommend speaking with her, when it is possible. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go and give instructions to that youngster over yonder, before he beheads himself with that _bloody axe_ some idiot's given him!"

Legolas smiled thinly as his companion disappeared through the crowds and smoke, reappearing by the side of a nervous-looking youth, avidly swinging an axe with enthusiasm but less than safe knowledge of how to do so…it had been a miracle up to this point that the kid hadn't removed his head from his shoulders already…

It was in that instant that he noticed…_truly saw_ all the elderly men, all the regular folk…the farmers and bakers, carpenter and suchlike, picking up weapons for the first time in their lives…and worst of all, the children. Youths, they were named, as if it made them sound bigger or stronger…instead, it merely did the opposite.

Even for humans, they were young, and to an Elf's perspective, they should still be wrapped in their babe's cloth…too young to face the horrors of battle but eager to please, how many would die before victory was achieved? Who would remember their names…?

Such thoughts were like poison to him, and became too great a burden to bear alone, so he went to find Aragorn, where he knew the man was in the Armory…

~)0(~

It had not gone well.

In a rare burst of emotion, he had poured out his true feelings of the situation to the human he considered a brother, only to receive rejection; crippling rejection, hatred and anger, even though Aragorn too, knew the insurmountable odds they faced.

Gimli had bade him wait before confronting Aragorn again…even if it was only to apologize.

His heart was heavy, and he wandered about the shadows of the Fortress in silence, listening to nothing but the agonized pounding of his own heart. So it was understandable he missed her summons at first, before realizing his own name had been spoken softly, by a female voice to his immediate right…

"Legolas…Majesty?" hissed the voice, and he turned to face Eowyn, stunned incredulity on his features, "Y-yes? How did you-?" She smiled coyly, not exactly offering another reason…but bade him follow with a single hand motion.

Winding through the city in it's ever-darkening Twilight, she led him down deeper and deeper; nearing the depths of Helms Deep…he felt significant fear rise within him, but trusted her to lead him true. Fearing whatever she might have to tell him was of a sinister nature…

Finally, at a bolted wooden door of many ages past, she paused and felt for the handle, having trouble sliding the large metal bolt out of place so they may enter…as any man should, Legolas offered his assistance by stepping forth and sliding the bolt easily into an 'open' position. Eowyn looked stunned, he smiled, "Elven strength, it is not often we reveal such a power to mortals…or use it against them, but if the occasion warrants such action, it is permissible to take it. After you, My Lady…or would you prefer I go first, to secure the way?"

She took a decisive step into the room, it was small and windowless, no light permeated the room and water dripped down the walls slowly; moss grew from every crack in the moist stone and the air was filled with the sharp tang of earth and damp…

He followed her in, eyes perceiving no danger for either of them; she motioned to one of the nearby chairs…it looked rotten so he perched on a stone bench which had obviously been crammed in her a long time before. Sliding over so she could also seat herself.

He looked at her expectantly, finally resorting to asking, "My Lady is there some burden you wish to share…? Something I may assist you with…?"

Eowyn fidgeted with the hem of her dress, evidently revealing more than was proper with a male in the room, "Y-you know I harbor a…certain _affection_, for the Lord Aragorn? I know you do; I saw it in your eyes the day I asked after the Pendant…"

Legolas nodded, feeling an awkward and difficult conversation brewing within the woman, and strove to prevent her any motional upset…

"My Lady, I knew the moment you asked after his Lady…and I am sorry to tell you this, but they are in love and will not be separated. She has given a great gift to be with him, and Aragorn will not abandon her…even if her father would have her sail to the Never-Dying Lands…I wish I could tell you otherwise, but it is so." He tried to keep his voice level and soft, and saw doubts flicker across the beautifully pale face of the Shieldmaiden…

~)0(~

His eyes were kind, full of compassion and concern; the words soft and gentle, dulling the ache they festered within her soul…soon she began to doubt her assumptions, he spoke of this other as if it was truly a maiden, but then…what would that make him?

And why was he '_Gwador-nin_' to Aragorn? More precisely, _what_ was _Gwador-nin_?

In sudden confusion, her nerve slipping, she stood suddenly and began to pace frantically, his expression changed to surprise; concerned, she felt him reach out for her…standing by her, but –in a moment of madness- she turned viper-fast and pushed him from her.

She knew the Prince could have recovered, but the betrayal on his face as he slammed to the ground was all she needed to see to know why he did not catch himself…without a second glance, Eowyn turned and ran from the room.

The door slammed shut with little effort and she found herself screaming, "If I cannot have him, he cannot have you!" as the bolt slid home with a final clunk…

And then she was gone…

**TBC?**

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><p><strong>Oh no! How will this end?<strong>

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	3. Chapter 3: Angsty Aragorn Awaits An Apol

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, or any of it's characters...sadly including Legolas...**

**Please enjoy and Review!^^**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Angsty Aragorn Awaits An Apology…<strong>

**~)0(~**

"…_naga da'gathiar, _himself…Why must he always be so stubborn?" Aragorn lamented to the empty room in which he paced. It was the one Theoden had assigned him on their arrival, though he shared it with his companions, the silent Dwarf who sat whetting his axe-blade with a reproachful look on his features, and the absent Elf.

He sighed, it was not Legolas's fault truly, Aragorn understood the horror he felt; seeing children being sent to battle…it was sacrilege to the Elven way…Elflings were rare and protected fiercely from the outside world. To stand by and watch so many Youths fitted with armor too large, shields too heavy…and weapons they could not wield…it would have burned the tender heart that beat beneath the warrior's exterior…

Suddenly Aragorn, _Estel_ of the Elves, felt weary and sorrowful; to yell, to rebuke his soul's brother was painful for him also and should not have occurred. He would to find the Archer so as to apologize…

~)0(~

The man's demeanor changed in an instant, and he knew a decision had been made.

"Ah, Laddie…it seems you have realized your foolishness, will you finally go and make peace with the Bloody Elf? This is straining us all, and we can't afford to be at odds with one another…ah, Laddie…I should probably mention something…" the gruff voice faltered, as if uncertain whether the information was worth confiding or figment of twisted imagination on his part…

"The- The Lady Eowyn has taken to being…being quite…_aggressive_ towards the Elf, and there is no cause that can be found…be wary when you search for him….If he is concealed from her wrath, do not call attention to the location…he will kill you himself before she steals his immortality with cold, hard steel…" he added, looking earnestly at the man, who nodded in thoughtful acknowledgement.

"I shall be wary, my friend, fear not for me…I shall be f-…" he started, but was cut off, "Do _not_ speak that word, or I shall have to cut you to size, Laddie! The last time you uttered such a fallacy, we thought you dead! Just…stray from the Lady's path, we could not bear your death a second time…" yelled the Dwarf, quieting slowly and calming.

"I promise you Gimli, I shall return whole and breathing or my corpse shall submit to your vengeful tirade." Aragorn smiled, nodded and ducked out the door before Gimli could retort the obvious friendly insult hidden within honeyed words…

~)0(~

Being raised by Elves gave him insight into their strange ways and innermost natures, especially that of Legolas, but it was still hard to discern his trail in the myriad of footsteps and paths trampling over one another in the dust and stone of the Fortress.

Large, granite bricks of Helms Deep seemed to withhold the secrets of time immemorial and mocked him with their silence, taunting the Ranger with information he longed to possess and was denied. Where was his brother?

~)0(~

Upon the steps to the main chambers lay a familiar looking shaft, green-fletched and sharp as a razor's edge; lay an arrow of Mirkwood; rocking softly in the wind that skipped icy chill over them all, and making a soft tapping noise upon the bare, grey stone.

He hurried to it, examining where it had fallen, the direction it faced and ran through hundreds of scenarios in his mind that would account for Legolas missing one of his most treasured weapons; for the Arrows of Mirkwood fall even more rarely than the Leaves of Lothlorien…

It was cause for concern; his heart constricted in fear…but he stood and faced left, watching the walls with avid intensity…searching for what he knew to be there, concealed…and his patience was rewarded.

There, hastily concealed under a tatty old tapestry which obviously did not belong, was a doorway; the entrance was dank and dreary, a cold draught beckoned the Ranger down into the dark well of stairs. Aragorn grasped the arrow-shaft firmly in a battle-calloused hand, breathing deeply to allow his mind a moment to process everything; could Legolas be down there?

It was not impossible, but…why would he go willingly into somewhere so enclosed…unless…

Unless it was someone whom he trusted, or wished to speak in confidence; the Elven Prince had _always_ been too obliging, it was both a gift and curse, he would never speak as to his discomfort if he was needed…

Which bespoke another question, to whom did he provide counsel? Who did he follow into these depths…and where did he now reside?

~)0(~

Malevolent eyes stared at the passage; hatred like cold fingers gripped her heart and squeezed, tighter and tighter, until it burned as a flame in her eyes.

Oblivious to the animosity and hope, the object of her thwarted desire set forth to rescue his '_Gwador-nin'_, and she watched, flame flickering…before moving forwards and calling, "My Lord Aragorn, might I speak with you…?"

He turned in surprise at her soft voice, hand half-raised for the torch burning brightly in a nearby bracket; to start at the earnest look she had plastered all over her features, "Eowyn! I not the knowledge you were there, you should have been born a Ranger…so light is your tread!" he smiled.

She forced her mouth to reciprocate, "What is it you seek, My Lord?"

Aragorn seemed to halt, eyes flashing as he gauged what was safe to say, but then confided, "My companion, Legolas, has become missing; there was an argument, and I must apologise for my behavior…" Storm-grey eyes averted themselves from her own, and anger flared briefly in her own, but had cooled to something that passed as sympathy, afore he had turned his gaze upwards again…

"Oh, My Lord, how terrible! Do you not know where he could have gone…? Pray tell me, what did you quarrel over…?" she asked, ears straining for the faintest hint of argument she could use to force them apart…

His reply was unexpected at best, and she found no reply as he simply stated, "The Men. He- he could not understand how children could be sent to battle…or the old, and those untrained…and I know he questions the ways of man. For Elves discern not over gender, I believe he was surprised how able-bodied women were sent to hide when they could also wield a blade; as I personally swore to, after witnessing your skills."

Eowyn smiled genuinely under the praise, beginning to feel she had misjudged them both; especially the Prince…

~)0(~

Her smile was as false as Saruman's, his instincts buzzed on high alert at her presence but he remained calm, and tried to turn her from the dark thoughts that plagued her. It worked for the most part, Eowyn stopped bristling like a cornered animal and smiled genuinely at the praise of her skill…

Gondor's future King felt it was right to ask, "My Lady, would you accompany me down into the depths of Helms Deep, I fear he is hidden in the recesses of this place…" She baulked, as he knew she would, her face betrayed something akin to fear and guilt…

She knew where Legolas was, why did she not speak…?

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><p><strong>REVIEW!^^<strong>

**Yes, I didn't rescue Legolas yet, would the story have been very good if I had...?**

**I have tried to keep the characters as true as possible, but I understand Eowyn is not like this, kind of a Dark!Eowyn fic. However, this is how I see her reacting if she truly had taken that scene to heart and misconstrued it.**

**Watch the scene in the movie and decide for yourself, it's hilarious...**

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	4. Chapter 4: Gimli Grows Weary of Waiting

**Disclaimer:I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of it's characters...**

**Please Review!^^**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Gimli Grows Weary of Waiting…<strong>

**~)0(~**

Darkness is the absence of light.

Even his own Elvish light, the soft glow that infused his every pore, it seemed as dark as Sauron's soul in this room; so tight and dark and small…he closed his blue eyes against the over-whelming panic of his soul. Elves were never made to be confined…his hand attested to that…but his mind wandered…

Her words so cryptic… "If I cannot have him, he cannot have you!"

What did she mean? What purpose was there to have falsely imprisoned him thus?

Maybe Gimli had been right, should he have thrown himself at her feet and begged for mercy…? Nay, if he had, his father would have had him killed…but there may not be need of that, for he was still trapped within a stone tomb of ever-closing walls and dripping water.

~)0(~

Gleaming brightly in the noonlight, his axe-blade had never been keener to hew Orc heads from their bodies…and yet, he continued, the whetstone providing a comforting '_schick schick'_ to his tumultuous mind.

The Elf was probably fine, just…out singing to a tree or some-such, yes…that had to be it…singing to a tree…but he would not worry his companions thusly; he would have told them…

The whetstone clacked off the harsh grey walls and echoed, Gimli grasped the haft of his axe tightly, standing and striding out of the room; stone brought no comfort to a mind full of questions, only action could dissuade the irritating whispers of worry ghosting through his thoughts.

He trudged up the steps and into the main halls of Helms Deep, glancing about him for the fool Elf…but he found no trace of him, instead stumbling upon a scene most peculiar. It seems Aragorn had found a passage secret, one hand pushed back a concealing tapestry, and the other held a lit torch aloft…the Ranger stared avidly down into the dark depths of the unknown; restrained only by the slender hands of Eowyn, wrapped about his bicep.

They argued softly, so he strained to hear them…

"I must go, My Lady…he may need me…" reasoned the calm, even-toned voice of Aragorn, trying to gently shake her death grip from his arm; the Shieldmaiden, however, had no intention of releasing him, throwing back, "And yet, you cannot be certain he is down in the old Fortress, can you?"

It was then he made his presence known, "Aye, but it does no harm to look, Lassie…what resides in the old Fortress that has you so wary?" She merely gaped a moment, as if seeking a plausible answer, then her features gave way to stone, closing off to the world; and she walked off in silence.

"Ah, Gimli, you certainly do have a way with the women-folk…" smiled Aragorn at his Dwarven Companion, then gestured to the gaping maw of nothingness before them, "Would you care to accompany me…somewhere an Elf has most certainly gone before…?"

That did it, Gimli blustered down the stairs in huff, muttering about various things, but mostly Elves; Aragorn merely followed with an amused smile on his features…

~)0(~

She paced.

When her treachery was known, his heart would be closed to her for good…but she had been so _certain_ that without the Elf, she stood a chance. Sadly, it appeared that being a '_Gwador-nin_' was far too precious to both of the males, and blinded his heart to her desires…

Sighing softly, she sat on a chair on the middle of an abandoned room and gazed out the window, awaiting their coming…

~)0(~

Their path was long, full of shifting shapes in the shadows and winding, not a soul could be keenly made out…but there was a definite feeling of eyes; the shiver down your spine of gazes capturing your every movement…

"Aragorn…?" came the gruff voice, helm shining intermittently in the flickering torchlight; the Ranger gazed at what he believed to be Gimli's eyes, "What is wrong, Gimli?"

The Dwarf blustered and puffed up like an angry cat, "Why would you assume something is wrong? I am underground, the place a Dwarf should be! Why-…" he made to continue, but a silhouette of a hand waved away the words before they were spoken…

"I also am wary of these dark depths, my friend; there is no shame in admitting it." Smiled the Man, patting the other heartily on the shoulder for support; the beard twitched slightly, and Aragorn assumed it meant the Dwarf was smiling…though one could never tell…

~)0(~

Lolling on the ground before them, light near spent and sputtering; giving up it's fight with the encroaching gloom, lay the light Eowyn had dropped in her frenzied rush from the place in confusion, guilt and shame. Though the two companions were not to know that…

"Look here Aragorn! See how the light illuminates the door!" cried an excited Gimli, tugging the man closer into the circle of light; the circle of dying firelight is spurred on by the other torch, bringing sharp relief to the decaying door, hanging stoutly from the wall.

There were shards of wood about the area, looking to have been thrust outwards from an impact upon the inside of the wooden obstacle, but no, the great iron bar was in place, sealing the door shut.

Or so the companions came to believe upon first glance.

~)0(~

A second inspection revealed the bar to be flawed, cracks ran up and down the solid metal bar, chipping in some places, but definitely the result of being struck from behind the door with a heavy object, or something of great force…

Aragorn felt his heart sink, slowly, as he examined the scene, leaning forwards to tap gently on the door, "Legolas…? Are you in there…?"

~)0(~

A voice…

The sound of two heartbeats echoing in the gloom…the sizzle of fresh flame rose over the sputtering death of the torch he had listened to for hours on end; was this rescue?

Had someone finally seen through the deceptive face the Shieldmaiden wore, seen his disappearance as a sign…?

It mattered not.

They were here…

~)0(~

**_TBC_**

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	5. Chapter 5: Royalty's a Force to Be Recko

**Disclaimer: I do not Own Lord of the Rings or it's characters, etc.**

**Newest Chapter: Yay, please Read and Review!^^**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Why Royalty's a Force to Be Reckoned with…<strong>

**~)0(~**

Even without hearing the small whisper of movement he perceived in the room, all his instincts –honed from years of Ranger training, and…of course, the years he grew up with Legolas and his brothers- screamed insistently in his mind. Legolas was behind that door…and if his tread was anything to go by, he was trying to remain calm…

"Come, Gimli, we must move the bolt," he stated, calmly; feeling his heart flutter in his breast, wondering in what condition his oldest companion would be, once the door revealed him. The Dwarf, being of a stout, practical race, merely marched over and inspected the bolt, before fitting his axe haft to it, and levering all his considerable might against it…

Aragorn also added his strength, and soon, the door was free…iron clanked to the ground with resounding force. A gaping hole in the wood flickered ominously in the torchlight; like a hungry maw of darkness, inviting them to stare into the void of nothingness…

Another sound of movement caught his ear…

~)0(~

Battered wood creaked open, allowing pale red light to seep into the dank, damp, gloom; the Ranger found he barely had time to thrust the burning torch at Gimli, before a pale, glowing shape burst from the gloom and wrapped deceptively slender arms about him.

As his breath was all but squeezed from his body, he felt his arms instinctively raise of their own accord and reciprocate…

"_Gwador-nin_, it is all right…you are safe. I must apologise for my harsh words before, you were right. But I must ask, who is it that has entombed you in this place…?" he asked of the Elf, who pushed away from him and searched his face with wide, feverish ocean blue eyes.

"_Estel_…_tithen Gwador_, it-it is not my place to speak their name, for I would betray their confidence if I should-…" came the soft, rarely-heard voice; over which the strong baritone of Aragorn spoke, "It was the Lady Eowyn, was it not?"

Legolas faltered, mouth open in surprise…"How did you know…?" he finally asked, as Gimli reached out a leather-clad hand to pat him on the arm, "Ah, Laddie, there are many ways to see someone's true face…she just so happened to drop her mask everytime you were mentioned, it was not hard to fathom she was aware of your location …"

"Or that she continuously seemed to impede on our search, even going so far as trying to dissuade me from entering the very tunnel that lead to this room. Though Gimli was most insistent, and she eventually found reason to take offense and leave us to our fate…however, I for one, am glad we went against her wishes…for we found you." finished Aragorn, placing a comforting hand upon the other's arm, smiling gently.

It was returned in kind, but both companions saw how his eyes darted to the dripping stone walls entombed in the gloom about them, and made motions to leave.

"Come, we should leave this place and find you fresh air," the future Gondorian King said, diplomatically, placing a familiar hand in the center of the Elf's back and slyly maneuvering the other out into the corridor. There was a loud crash, and they turned back to see a smug-looking Dwarf, having succeeded in removing the door from it's hinges; dust splayed upright in a wave.

"Just in case you insist upon following another down in the depths out of some strange sense of courtesy, we'll not have you being trapped in there again, Laddie!" he said, which was as close to, _I'm glad you're safe and am merely making absolutely certain this will never again occur_ as the sentimental Dwarf was going to get…

~)0(~

Greeting them, as they emerged from the Halls, were the golden rays of sunset; caressing the world once more, afore setting to sleep over the lip of the world, and awaiting it's chance to rise again, come morning.

Still, at least one of the companions basked in it, even if there was no outward sign of his joy, other than the brief smile that fell from his lips…Aragorn smiled; Gimli harrumphed and made a disparaging comment about Elves…

Which, despite his excellent hearing, Legolas seemed not to hear…or chose not to, it mattered little; already, stars could be seen in the sky, despite the darkening clouds that foretold rain and storm.

"Ah, Lord Aragorn, we have not seen you since the midday meal, wherever were you hiding? The King has requested your presence in his War Room, and I have been searching for many hours…" arose the voice of a mildly perplexed, though definitely peeved, Eomer. The Third Marshal of the Riddermark appeared upon the steps, of which they now stood atop, and made his way towards them… "And would you care to explain the way my sister sits, listlessly, gazing out a window with glassy eyes…?"

His glare rested upon Aragorn, chiefly…and the man took a step back, hands raised in a pacifying gesture as he stated, "It is not I who am the source of her misery, Eomer, but I would to know of it's cause…as it has been the source of most strange actions, on her part."

"Whatever do you mean?" asked the puzzled Rohirric Commander, gazing sideways at the mildly disheveled state of the three companions, and…even the Elf, for one of his braids seemed slightly loose, and his hand was marred by red , angry cuts. "Where on Middle Earth have you been…and what has happened to you all? Master Elf, do you require assistance with your injury?"

"Nay, Lord Eomer, it will heal by morning. If not, I am certain a certain Ranger will fuss like a mother hen until I submit to his will…but I must ask where is the Lady Eowyn? She…has confused us all with an assumption that must be put right…" replied the Elven Prince delicately, smiling at the display of thought that flickered across the other's features.

After a moment of terse silence, Gimli again made a _Harrumph_-ing noise and pushed past the other two, so he could stare up at the man, threateningly. "Well? Are we to stand here all day, or shall we go and find your sister, who has _wr-…mmph_!" the Dwarf's explanation was cut short by a surreptitious calloused hand, that covered the assumed place where his mouth was.

"We merely wish to speak with her…" smiled Aragorn, the hand unconsciously tightening around the Dwarf's mouth…almost daring the tunnel-lover to speak…

Eomer thought deeply upon the statement, and said, "I will take you to her, but be warned…should any harm come to her, I will not be kind…"

~)0(~

Her dress caught in the wind, flapping like a forlorn banner over a dying world; her back was to them, as if those normally captivating eyes were fixed blankly on the horizon. Though it was clear she had been awaiting their arrival.

"Eowyn…? Sister…? Lord Aragorn and his companions wish to speak to you…" Eomer called, taking careful paces forwards as he spoke, nearing the straight back and ridged shoulders; tensing at his presence, not to mention that of those she did not wish to converse with…

"Leave us, brother…and take Master Gimli with you, I would to speak to Lord Aragorn and the Prince alone…I trust you not to speak of this to anyone." Less of a question, more of a statement; and one which Eomer did not seem to have the courage with which to argue against…instead leading the Dwarf out with the promise of a large tankard of fine mead…

~)0(~

Her cold blue eyes stared at them impassively, and they gazed back in silence; finally she spoke, "Have you come to taunt me; to berate me for my folly? Or will you run to my Uncle, tell him of my actions and have me confined to the cage I have always feared…?" she asked, levelly; face betraying no emotion…

Aragorn started backwards, as if burnt by the fire her eyes shot at them. "Whatever do you mean, My Lady? I do not…" he said, face clearly displaying the confusion plaguing his soul. Legolas spoke quietly to him, a hand resting companionably upon the Ranger's shoulder, "Aragorn…I believe she is under the impression, we are….together…"

And then…Aragorn got it…

**_TBC..._**

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><p><strong>Thanks for Reading, please Review.<strong>

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**Chapter 6: Haldir of Lorien, & the Circlet of Don't-Touch-Me!**


	6. Chapter 6: Haldir of Lorien & the Circle

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, or any of their associated characters...**

**Slightly longer than usual, but one of my reviewers pointed out a lack of emotion...so I threw it all in this one, what would you like to see happen next? **

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: Haldir of Lorien, &amp; the Circlet of Don't-Touch-Me!<strong>

**~)0(~**

There are defining moments in any person's life; be they man, elf, hobbit, dwarf or anything in-between…sometimes the truth just struck you from places unknown and did not spare your feelings or heart a second glance. Fingers ghosted over his chest in surprise, seeming to search for the arrow of surprise that had struck him senseless…

"She…what?" was the most elegant phrase he could muster from all the turmoil in his mind, only to be steadied by a hand he had known since infancy…as always, Legolas was there to help him.

The smile of patient amusement glimmering through the façade of stone was reminiscent of the moment he had taken his first steps, from the beaming Imladrian Elf Lord, Elrond, to the equally excited Royal Archer a pace away; and there again, his faltering steps were caught in elegant arms, and his words given to him in a manner of better understanding.

"_See how she stares at our contact_?" whispered the Elven Prince, so close he could feel the breath tingle his ear, and it was then he saw the narrowing of her hard, blue eyes; the manner in which her fists clenched at the pale hand holding him upright under the sagging weight of this revelation…

~)0(~

"M-My Lady, I do not understand how it is you have come to this conclusion…but I can most assuredly state, it is a false assumption…" he stated vehemently, storm-grey eyes staring directly into Eowyn's own ice blue pair. She faltered a moment, taking a physical step backwards and searching the cold, grey stone of the floor for the meaning she had missed…

"But, My Lords, I have seen you together…the way you touch, speak and act…and the pendant, I saw-…" she tried her best to form coherent sentences to explain the logic behind her disillusion, but could not seem to help them fathom how her jealous heart had conjured up a fallacy, a mirage in desperation to shield itself from harm.

It was the object of her recent hatred that stepped forth, and offered treaty to her, "Eowyn, you have done wrong to us both under false pretenses, but I bear you no ill will. Please, explain to me how you came to see this…this pairing between us, and I will explain all to you in time…"

She looked up, ice of her eyes melting, melting to show clear sky blue through the fading chill as her heart warmed and basked in the kindness shown by someone she thought an enemy…

There was a moment's silence before she spoke, the Lady considering her words well, "My Lord, Your Majesty, please forgive me, I have done you both great wrong…I saw from your reactions that I was incorrect.

When we rode to Helms Deep, it seemed as if you were quite comfortable, speaking of the love you left…as if she were beside you…and the glances you share, as if words mean nothing and all is said with a smile. The words you speak are both beautiful and foreign, of the Elvish tongue; no man here save the two of you can possibly speak it…I thought, I was under the impression you were…

Let us not speak of it! It is my folly alone…

And when you were gone, Aragorn…when we thought you dead…where my heart broke for your loss, another seemed as if turned to stone or removed, I had suspicions…but your arrival heralded joy for myself and the others, so I spoke not of it.

I raced ahead to speak with you before you entered my Uncle's Halls, but it was not to be…another had snared you before I could…and then I saw…I_ thought_ I saw…the two of you together, so comfortable. Pain and fear for the other on your faces, but shared joy at the other's safety; and then I saw the Pendant.

The love that shone from your eyes when you beheld it, the manner in which you took it from Legolas…the pure exhilaration at not having lost this most important piece of your love…I truly believed…

I have mistreated you both, but especially you, Lord Legolas, and I must beg your forgiveness." She bowed, eyes downcast, as he seemed to survey her with amusement.

"My Lady, I was most aware of your seeming intent to bore twin holes within my back with your gaze alone that day in the War Chambers, when I made mention of it to Gimli, he suggested I throw myself upon my knees and beg for your mercy.

As I have said, I bear no ill will towards you; it was merely a mistaken moment with which you danced for a while; though I must ask you to refrain from locking me in what is essentially a dungeon, again. It was most uncomfortable.

I must also ask a favour of you, please refrain from calling me any title, I dislike it immensely, Legolas will do just fine. However, Master …GreenLeaf, will do if you must find some title…"

~)0(~

She looked most chagrined at his words, "My Lo- Legolas, I apologise for locking you in that place, I almost gave in and confessed, as you seemed so genuinely concerned for me, and confused over my half-mad, jealous ramblings. Before you ask from whence I learned your weakness, I will say freely; it was during that most intense meeting in the War Room, whence I attempted to sear your innards with my ill thoughts and gaze alone…

It was in the way Lord Aragorn seemed concerned over your behavior and continuously touched your arm, or spoke softly, both in Common and Elvish, as if reassuring himself you were alright. I, myself, only heard one phrase, "_Calm, Gwador-nin, calm…the meeting is near its completion, we will be outside shortly…can you resist the urge to run from this place until then…?" _and I realized it must be the thick stones' closeness that plagued you.

Preying upon your one weakness must seem most vulgar from your perspective, but I believe I had to in order to gain Aragorn's heart…please understand…" she _near-begged_, though as a Daughter of the Royal House of Rohan, she would never concede to beg!

Aragorn spoke when he, himself, remained completely silent. "Eowyn, what you did was wrong, but you have heard he forgives you…although if you should pull such a stunt again, I may be forced to lock you within a cage much too small for one of your make, one that best befits a bird, comes to mind…" It was a light threat, but the tone was still within the words, decrying truth through the humour…

~)0(~

Legolas stayed quite still, eyes gazing out the window, as Eowyn had done, searching his mind as Elves do…he could still feel the fear and panic of the moments alone in darkness, greater than even that he had felt in Moria; for there he had had nine companions to watch over, jest with, and fall into Elven Dreams with the reassuring sound of their heartbeats resounding in his pointed ears. In this room, there was only darkness, of course he could see better than a human eye, but even Elves need light…complete nothingness, as a sucking void, tears at their delicate souls.

To have everything taken from you, sight was worthless in that prison; as were taste and smell, both senses were full of the cloying damp that rose from all around. Touch proved naught but that the room required careful maintenance, considering the amount of water and sludge, mould and rank slime that coated all but one surface...

The bench he sat on, in the darkness and prayed to the Valar, that someone would find him before the walls pressed in so tight he could not breathe anymore…

Trapped in a room where his only functioning sense was sound, where he could do nothing but remain still and listen to the endless soft _drip, drip, drip_…of the water falling from the roof, to the massing puddles at his feet.

In desperation, he had taken to the door, but it was firm, thick, and the metal beyond unbreakable from his position…

Finally, in darkness he sat and waited…waited to be rescued, with his heartbeat echoing in time to the haunting _drip, drip, drip…_

~)0(~

He saw it written on his companion's face, the haunted look that dimmed his natural gleam, the glazed eyes; Eowyn seemed none-the-wiser to his plight, so Aragorn masterfully maneuvered himself closer to Legolas, and brushed the other's arm. Instinctively staying the other's natural reaction to go for the ornately carved white knives at his back, when startled…

"_Calm my friend, we will speak of this later, when you are ready…_" he spoke in the soothing tones of Sindarin, attempting to bring peace to his oldest friend and brother…it succeeded for the most part, as the other turned focused blue eyes to gaze into his own… Eowyn continued to talk, "…and the final reason I believed, falsely, that you were paired, was…was the way you called one another a honorific I had never before heard…_Gwador-nin_…What is it's purpose?"

There was a significant chance the Elf beside him would begin to laugh hysterically or cry at the ridiculous nature of their situation, all their trials and tribulations –his most especially,- had been based upon the misunderstanding of a single endearment, a piece of jewelry and a love-struck woman. It was slightly hard to cope with, having been locked in a small room for several hours…but Legolas remained quite clam…_frighteningly_ calm, to be honest.

He replied, "Lady Eowyn, I can assure you, that is a term of endearment I grant you, but not one you would whisper to your _Melleth_ –your Love-, _Gwador-nin…_it means, 'My Brother'. It is what _Estel-_…**Aragorn** has called me since the day he could first speak, and I in turn, respond by calling him, _tithen Gwador_, which means _Little_ Brother…though he hates it. Do you not, _tithen Gwador_?"

The Ranger shot a dark look in his direction, but grinned, "I do indeed have cause to be offended by being labeled as a younger sibling, for I do look older than you now and am no longer the child you used to chase about the Halls and Gardens of Imladris. Although I concede your age creates a significant gap between us, I would wager you have not done half the things I have…"

"Truly, Scruffy Human-Creature? And did you fight in the Great War…did you witness Sauron's downfall at the hands of Isilduir? Have you spent many a century taking on the giant spiders of Mirkwood, not to mention the King…? I did not think so…and I should mention, Arwen and I…a few centuries ago…" he paused dramatically, giving Eowyn enough time to look scandalized, and Aragorn to gape wildly, "…Were quite the best of friends, although, when she left to learn secrets from _DaerNanneth _Galadrielin the Golden Wood_, _things were never quite the same."

Aragorn breathed a significant sigh of relief… "Legolas? Never say such things again, unless you wish me to die in this very floor.."

Legolas smiled in the mysterious Elven way, "I can promise you nothing, _tithen Gwador_…" and he was gone, like a shadow passing over the Sun.

Aragorn also turned to leave, but Eowyn tugged his sleeve, "My Lord, pray tell, what does, '_DaerNanneth_' mean?" her eyes were wide with confusion, feeling to have understood only half the conversation… He smiled, thinking of the best manner in which to explain, and went for the straightforward approach…

"Grandmother…" he stated simply, and left the room, with a shocked looking Shieldmaiden in his wake…it seems she was finding out more and more of these strange companions every moment of each day they were near…

~)0(~

Slouched against a wall, supping of the fine Rohirric ale, and partaking of his beloved pipe-weed; Gimli found himself to be content, but for a moment of panic, where his heart fluttered in his breast in concern for the ghostly Elf that made his way through the door.

Many a man in the Hall stopped their pre-battle debauchery to gaze in wonder, believing this to be how the near-mythical creatures always looked…but the stout Dwarf looked on in concern, knowing this shade to be unnatural even for the blasted moon-struck Elf.

He waded through the men, both hale and drunkard; reaching the man and Elven creature's side in less time than it took to breathe, thus proving Dwarves were true to their word about sprinting…and pointedly steered them from the room. Though there was a moment, a perfect stillness of the world, when he saw Aragorn's eyes connect with the piercing set beheld by the Third Marshal of the Riddermark; a single, almost imperceptible, nod affirmed some unspoken deal or truce.

Of which was reached, neither gave any sign; both parted ways with different companions…Eomer to his men and his strong mead, Aragorn to the welfare of another, with a certain Dwarf trailing in his wake. Trying not to sound overtly concerned over the Elf's appearance… He missed the soft smile passed between the two over his head at his gruff blustering facade…

~)0(~

Seated in the small room by candlelight, a roaring fire mere moments from bursting from sparking ember to blazing life in the grate provided, the Elf remained stoically silent. The Ranger paced the room a moment, pausing only when Gimli had set forth a towering flame in the fireplace, and turned to survey Legolas.

"May I see to your hand, or will you stubbornly insist you are fine and the damage be reduced to a mere 'nothing', as always?" he asked civilly, wondering if it were within their strength limits if he and Gimli should both attempt to apprehend the Prince at once, maybe bind him to a chair or some-such other immobilizing technique…

However, the injured appendage was proffered without argument, unusual for the archer, but it seemed he was quite weary of this day and longed to slip into Elven Dreams; and so, brooked no argument at his treatment, merely surrendering…

Aragorn took the hand, turning it every manner of directions so as best to observe the damage; he pressed gentle fingertips to the angry, red wounds, slowly healing as he watched, and heard the Elf hiss in surprise. So lost in his own thought, he had no time to suppress such a reaction; it was then he saw the true price of Eowyn's folly…and grimaced in anticipation.

"Legolas, you have broken several of the bones within your hand, I may have to move them in order for you to ever draw bowstring again…how could you not say anything before this moment?" he admonished and gasped in the same sentence, looking with unabashed horror at the inflamed skin…it would heal by morning, that much was certain. It was the manner in which it healed that was cause for concern…

Two ocean-blue eyes that had never yet beheld the sea captured his own; permission and forgiveness were held in their depths, as the man carefully ensnared the pale hand, criss-crossed with the angry red of injury and took a deep breath. Gimli took his eyes from them, and gazed intently into the fire…

~)0(~

With a ferocious crack, several snaps and a slight gasp…followed by a soft gasp, and a rather nasty sounding word in Sindarin, Gimli turned to survey the scene and found Aragorn speaking rapidly in Elvish, to an even paler then before, if possible, Elven Prince. The hand was bound with salves of the Ranger's own devising and the Elf instructed to rest…which he seemed most glad to do and laid on the main bed in the room, that given to Aragorn for his status among the men.

Eyes lost their clarity and glazed over as Elven Dreams stole him from the world…a chagrined Aragorn keeping watch, stormy orbs continuously staring at the bound hand, and cringing in remembrance most horrendous. The Dwarf however, saw it in a different light.

"Lad, you did what was necessary, with no other option…if you had not, would the Elf have wished to live knowing he could not to do the one thing he is most skilled at…? And if you tell him I said that, you'll face my axe…" he growled, shaking said weapon menacingly.

"You are most right, friend Gimli; there is naught more I can do for him, as the bones are set and will have repaired come dawn…we should sleep, for battle besets us early in the days to come…" replied the weary Ranger, and settled to the cot provided for his Elven companion, Gimli mirroring on his own.

The stars whirled above and were obscured by the ominous dark clouds stretching across the skies from Isengard…

~)0(~

Of all that was said of Dwarves, that they had no means to see themselves –or indeed fit correctly- in any chainmail, was an understatement by far; and it amused both the man and Elf no end to see him struggle with the human-proportioned coat of metal links carefully forged.

"Perhaps one of…smaller stature, would best suit you, friend Gimli," teased the Elf, smiling heartily and flexing the tingling fingers that were once broken; to which the Dwarf glared so malevolently, there may have been cause for his person to set alight on more than one occasion…

Aragorn smiled also, waving down the flaring –yet legendary- temper of their Dwarven companion, afore he brought doom to them both…

"Peace, Gimli, he means no harm but to jest, this you should know well," he gently mocked and admonished the sputtering creature, who fought with the suit, and was finally assisted by his taller companions.

"True my friend, I was only…" the Elf trailed off, eyes going vacant as he listened…snapping back into brilliant blue focus as he grabbed his bow and turned for the door, "Hear, they come..." A horn rang out loud and long as Legolas grinned widely, "For that is no Orc horn…"

And in an instant, the mere batting of an eye, he was gone with naught but a vague trail on the wind and the surprised looks of his companions to suggest he was ever there…

~)0(~

"We come from Lorien, those who serve the Great Lady of the Golden Woods; come to aid the plight of man in these desperate times…Also from the distant land of Mirkwood, once Greenwood the Great, to fight at your side…though for another reason entirely…" proclaimed Haldir in a ringing tone, the faintest trace of smugness caressed his features, for all who knew him well, to read; he inclined his head towards the King of Rohan, showing that he honored the other as an equal, and no other manner misconstrued.

His battalion of archers about faced and shone in the dim light, armor glistening as if kissed with dew at dawn…another squadron behind his own remained heavily cloaked, everything but pale hands clasping bows remained swathed in an all-encompassing forest green cloak that rippled as if alive, whenever moved.

They remained silent, almost fading to the background in the excitement of their arrival, only stirring when there was a break in the mortal crowds, three rushing shapes drawing from it like stream breaking forth from a restricting dam filled to overflow.

The Dwarf eyed up the Elven leader of those from Lothlorien with grudging respect and something more, Haldir responded by glancing down at the creature and said, "My words hold true, _Naugrim_, I heard you a way off…my archers could have shot you in the dark, so loud do you breath…"

Aragorn was the only voice of sanity in the confrontation, as Legolas chose to answer the slur to his companion with a unique mix of Elven and Dwarven curses, of which Gimli looked most proud; the Ranger broke them apart.

Rohirrm who gathered nearby stood watching with mixtures of confusement and surprise at the behavior of the supposed 'fair folk', tittering over the inconsistencies of myth and lore…until hushing as the debate calmed to nothing but polite smiles.

Aragorn was first to take to Haldir with his arms, though not the traditional hand clasp of greeting and brotherhood…a great all-encompassing squeeze which some mortals know as an embrace, threatened to break even the stoic Marsh Warden's facial expression. The Elven leader patting the younger mortal on the back in uncomfortable camaraderie, until the Ranger released him, grinning broadly. He received Legolas with the traditional hand clasp, even going so far as to place a clenched fist over his heart and bow, muttering something in Elvish…as is the standard salute in the Three Kingdoms.

A bemused voice from behind the Lorien soldiers cried out jestingly, "Come now, Haldir, is that how you show deference to your Superior…?" and those of the Golden Wood parted seamlessly to allow those obscured from view to come forth. One clearly lead the others forwards through the emotionless Elves, stopping before Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas, with the mortal King and his kin looking on in wonderment at these strange happenings of their days…

"My Lord _Estel_, long has it been since you traversed our forests…you must come again to dine at the Autumn Moon, when all is well with the World; and Master Dwarf, you must be the child of Gloin, he was the most amusing of all those Thranduil captured…a master craftsman. I would not be surprised should it run true in the blood…" smiled the voice of one unseen, though familiar voice; Gimli preened slightly at the complement, and Aragorn firmly clasped the Elf on the shoulder.

Lastly, the Elf turned to Legolas, and bowed.

~)0(~

"The High King Thranduil, Lord King of the Woods of Mirkwood and all that lay within the Third Elven Realm has decreed we who chose freely to come here, be placed under the service and protection of you, Prince Legolas. Even if it is only to keep you out of trouble!" stated the calm voice, breaking near the end with mirth…

The Elf stood and flung back his hood, revealing dark strands of hair and a face quite similar to that of the surprised, though bemused, Elven Prince above him. In the background, Eowyn looked rather smug at the shade King Theoden turned, 'twas quite a shock for her poor Uncle to learn the Ambassador he had shunned was indeed of Royal Blood…

Dark strands gave great contrast to a golden circlet of ornate leaves wound in intricate designs, gleaming in the sunlight and proclaiming him as Crown Prince. Which, to the Ranger could only mean it to be…

"Keldarion?" exclaimed Aragorn, beaming widely for all to see his joy; but the dark-haired Elf only had eyes for his brother, the one who had run off on some cock-a-meme quest to heal Middle Earth of it's dark blight. Without doing so much as leaving a note…

"Despite what father says he will do to you for worrying him so, I missed you so, Las!" exclaimed the older Elf, wrapping his arms around his fool-hardy and impulsive younger sibling. AS one, the other Archers flung back their hoods, to reveal a mixture of black and gold, but none as fair as the pale flaxen gold that the now-revealed Prince wore. They all pressed a clenched fist to their hearts and bowed out of respect, first to their Prince, and Aragorn who was _Elvellon_; then to the mortal King, whose men now depended upon them for their very survival…

~)0(~

His glory stripped from him in seconds, Haldir of Lorien decided he would to fight fire with fire, as it were; and slipped something from a pouch unseen, holding the item within the folds of his cloak…

"King Thranduil also sends one other item, for the wayward Prince," he paused to bask in the glare he received from, first one _Thranduilion_, then the other, in quick succession. "…The circlet he seemed to have accidentally misplaced at the Council of Elrond, and he bids his young majesty not to lose it under such circumstances again."

The silver circlet of intricate mimicry to the Golden one atop Keldarion's head, but Legolas stared at it hatefully, then sighed and reached for it. Aragorn and Gimli were the only persons to have heard the reluctant declaration, "_If I must…"_ that seemed to sigh off his breath and to the very winds, themselves!

Make no mistake, Haldir would pay for this dearly…

**_TBC..._**

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><p><strong>Thank you for Reading, please:<strong>

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	7. Chapter 7: The Dwarves of War Growl

**Disclaimer: I do not Own Lord of the Rings or associated characters...though I think I made up a character or two in here...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: The Dwarves of War Growl Fiercely…<strong>

**~)0(~**

He sidled closer to the other…not overtly friendly, yet with the slightest of anxious hesitation… "Lad…? I seem to notice ye have a singular…_dislike_ of that there shiny circlet, may I enquire as to why?" Gimli asked, after summoning the courage to do so of his stony-faced companion.

Though the Elf may not wish to hear it, from the tales the Dwarf had heard from his father Lord Gloin, and the images such descriptive words had conjured…the Elf by his side in the cold, dark room could be mistaken for Thranduil… Not that he, himself, would ever be game to tell the other that…his life was far too precious to waste on such a fleeting curiosity…

Legolas turned from the window to look him in the eyes, "It is a disagreement between my father and I…he wished to constrain me to the Palace, and I would not to be encased in those dark halls by his will alone; so I fought back…took to the woodland patrol for centuries, and was finally appointed the_ important_ task of watching the skulking creature, Gollum." He turned from the Dwarf to stare out the window again; stars glinting in blue eyes that seemed to follow the movements of those so far below, Gimli saw nothing but dots…

"It was by my order we treated him with kindness, showed him the compassion he had been denied by the Ring all those many years, and true to our beliefs and cares, he slowly became the creature Sméagol again; we walked him upon the same trail each morn, when the sun was low in the sky, for he feared it greatly. Though, this one day, we were ambushed! Orcs flooded from so many directions it was impossible to count their numbers; many were slain as Sméagol took to the highest protection afforded by the nearest tree…He would not come down, no matter how we called…and so we could not flee the battle with honour.

Many of our number died there and then, the foul creatures having no mercy for us, butchering the fallen until the world was streamed with blood, both foul and immortal; and he was torn down from the tree with ropes, they dragged him from the heights…those who lived for their weeping wounds, were unable to stop them.

Though I lived, I had indeed failed my duty to watch the creature as was my charge…my father, the King, made it most clear he was disgraced by my presence after such a failure. He sought to punish me by placing me as messenger of such news to the Council of Elrond and forced this crown upon my person…though he did not seem to understand it was a gift to be free from his presence…" the soft voice trailed low into the night, Gimli looked at his companion with new eyes.

"Ah, Lad…he was wrong, I mean no ill to your father other than that of my own, but he's considered something of a '_Pointy-Eared Bastard'_ among my folk of the mountains…"

The statement drew a small smile from Legolas, "You speak words that would be treasonous in the treacherous wilds of Mirkwood and Thranduil's Halls…though, if I were any other than the _loyal son_ I have always been…I would agree your words ring true…" If he had have seen the sparkling gleam that returned to his friend's eye, it would have made Gimli himself smile under the near-sentient mass that was his pride and joy; as it stood, his beard did twitch seemingly of it's own volition.

"Pray tell me, Laddie…how was it you came to be injured during the fight? You have not said…or is it best left alone? I will respect your judgment either way…" he inquired, allowing a pause to settle into silence between them.

Legolas turned to face him, "It is no secret or shame, though we are taught never to speak of injury…it would ruin the Firstborn image…" a small smile caressed his pale lips, "…when the Orcs attacked, they came from all sides…the Leader came for me, as if he knew…though I was dressed as you see me now. Never have I enjoyed wearing the heavy, bejeweled robes of court that my father and even Keldarion, enjoy…but no matter, I struck out with a blade thrown by one closest to me, for we were near unarmed at the time.

None expected the reforming creature to cause great trouble, so the only weapons were few and concealed between us all…as I fought him to the front, and several by my sides, another struck clean through my shoulder from behind. The sword came dislodged from my hand, and I was struck across the face…though, try I might, the other guards and I were overrun…and death was dealt to many, only I and one other survived." The words were soft, the gaze distant…rarely was such emotion seen from his Elven Companion…

Gimli clapped the Prince on his arm, somewhere between companionship and comfort, "You did what was right Lad, it will work out in the end, is this…secret, the reason that pointy-eared blowhard was so downright smug to you when we met?"

Legolas raised an eyebrow, "I am sorry, my friend, but it seems on this occasion you must be more specific, to whom are you referring…?" he asked playfully, eyes alight with mischief and innocence, a strange contradiction if ever there was one…but alight they were, and it made the Dwarf Lord suddenly buoyant of emotion. "Ach, stop playing the fool, Royal Bratling! You know I speak of Haldir, though it may be true your point is valid…Thranduil is ranked up with such a title…" grinned the Dwarf…at least, Legolas assumed he must be doing so, for it was difficult to discern, even with Elven Sight…

"You speak true, my friend, on both counts…Haldir has ever shown great love for Thranduil's dissent of my person…Pray tell me, why do you insist upon referring to me as 'Lad' or 'Laddie'? Surely you know I am several hundred centuries your Elder in all respects…_Naugrim_?" inquired the Elf, sharp blue eyes piercing the Dwarf's own.

Gimli looked taken aback a moment before replying, "_Laddie_, you may look like a youth falsely…but all your centuries of life will not save you from being bent over my knee and soundly spanked should you ever call me that again, even in jest!"

~)0(~

There was dead earnesty in the tone that spoke, and silence…before great laughter erupted from one party and soft, complimenting amusement from the other…though he could not see what truly occurred, the Third Marshal of the Riddermark had heard enough.

His respect for the newly-revealed Elven Prince grew…and he left as silently as he had come, leaving no trace of his eavesdropping save a burning desire to know more…

~)0(~

He supped of the fine wine offered; taking in the ornate etchings and symbols of the cup's design as he did so…he knew someone to be watching him, and his eyes constantly strayed to the Daughter of Rohan, but found it was not her eyes upon him… Instead, it seemed that her brother was the source of his discomfit…

Their eyes met for the second time in as many days and something passed between them; within Eomer's he saw a new understanding glisten and knew the time was right to speak of it…

~)0(~

Stealthy feet left no sound or trace, as in the forests of their Homeland…yet this was infinitely different for the reason of their meeting was forged of sorrow…

"Come in, Keldarion…" came the cold voice of Haldir, "To stay by the door would defeat your purpose, Princeling. Come forth into the light and be known, what is it you wish from me? Or is this visit to seek accompaniment when you confront your ill-bred broth- _Ah_!" The resounding sound of damaged Elven flesh rang through the entire chamber's stillness…

"Speak not of what you do not know, _Warden_…you are my inferior, just as you are his! Now be silent as I speak!" hissed the Elder Elven Prince, encroaching on a suddenly cringing Haldir, gleaming dagger in his hand flashing as dangerously as those familiar blue eyes…

Face stinging, the Royal handprint sat in sharp relief upon the pale face, the March Warden of Lorien's lips parted in surprise, "You would defend his actions…? He has disgraced your family, your father, the King! I am surprised you- Gah!" Again, the sound of an Elven fist striking the other's face…

"Silence, know that I will have you executed for such treasonous words…you may be Galadriel's pet, but Grandmother will heed my word over yours, and you know how she dotes on Legolas…would you risk her wrath?" the Crown Prince circled his opponent, whose eyes strayed to the ground in defeat and deference… "I thought not, now we must speak of your open disrespect for my brother…"

Keldarion continued to circle, like a predator awaiting a chance to strike the final blow of a wounded opponent that could not defend itself… "Such dissent to one of Royal Blood …and in front of mortals, no less! Though they are all doomed to die, your bickering and hatred will inspire many tales…he did what was right with the pitiful creature and I stand by the decision. Your place is not to question, but to serve us…remember that, rightly so…for I will not speak of this to you again…"

And he was gone, leaving a trembling March Warden to collapse to his knees in relief…

~)0(~

"So the words he spoke were true, if so…then why send troops to assist one he would be rid of?" questioned the Rohirric Marshal, not fully gasping all angles of this sharp spoke…Aragorn sighed softly, eyes rolling to the heavens in search of answers that would not come…

"Thranduil may be cold, cruel to mortals even, but his sons are everything left of Queen Nimwen he has…especially Legolas, for he has her hair and her nature, the need to find beauty in even the darkest soul…

Sadly, such a thing caused her death, for the Queen attempted one day to assist an injured horse…seemingly abandoned by those who had wronged the creature; it's distress brought the sensation to the Queen also, and so she attempted to ease it's suffering.

Only to be ambushed by man, many outlaws who would have her for ransom or their wife…either option mattered no greater than the other…she fought as only an Elven Warrior can, but when it is thirty against one armed with but a dagger, survival was slim.

Her body washed up on the shores of Morn Nen, it is thought she fell in before death and felt not the icy pain as it cleansed both her awareness and the memories of blood from her mind; for the river causes sleep, and forgetfulness, as is it's enchantment. The King's heart hardened, left to raise two young- yes, they were young…children, even at one point- elflings alone in a world that would seemingly see them dead…

So he has sent aid, and if I am not mistaken, Keldarion will attempt to sway my brother from this Quest…be aware that his temper is as his father's…Swift and Violent, for Legolas will not concede defeat so easily. The Crown Prince will not be pleased…" intoned the Ranger, knowingly.

Eomer ran battle-worn fingers through the flickering light of a candle flame, set in a bronze dish before them and mused upon what he now knew…

"Then hope is not lost to us…? Could they perhaps bring victory in this war, where mortals could not…or do they appear to fight and die by our sides?" he asked, seemingly, no one but the air before his face. Aragorn remained silent, answers for either manner of outcome locked within his heart.

"You would do well to trust us, mortal," whispered a voice from the flickering shadows by the door, and sure enough, the slender figure of an Elven Prince appeared; blue eyes flashing with certainty, Keldarion closed the door on silent hinges. Heavy-set wood closed without incident or protest as he strode forwards, graciously allowing those without Elven sight full view of his person, forest green cloak flourishing about him.

Eomer started, immediately attempting to regain his composure, as any true Son of Rohan would…the Ranger merely gazed disinterestedly at the new arrival, "I was wondering when you would to show yourself…ever one for conspiracy and drama, are you not…Keldarion?" he teased the Prince. Keldarion smiled back briefly, afore turning his gaze back to Eomer, blue eyes hard and demanding of the other, "We come freely to fight, and die if necessary, by your sides…should this not be enough for you?

Ah, but you men of Rohan still believe in fairy tales, fallacies of childhood that would have you believe Elves can magically appear and right all wrongs…We cannot, though many things are in our power, making an army of ten thousand Orcs disappear, is not one of them…"

Snorting into his mead, the Third Marshal of the Riddermark took upon the jest as it was intended , as a Peace Treaty…

Something caught Aragorn's eye… "Pray tell me, Kel, what has happened to your hand?" he asked, using the near-sacred nickname only he, family and a handful of select others in the world called the Crown Prince…as he noticed the redness dancing about pale knuckles. His storm-grey eyes grew hard as they narrowed, "You have spoken to Haldir, I presume?"

Keldarion gazed at the faint bruising rapidly rising to the surface in disinterest, "I was merely putting an inferior in his place…" he stated casually, flicking a long strand of dark hair behind him; Aragorn raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. However, emboldened by the previous lack of tension, and partially drunk, Eomer ventured, "You would strike one of your own men to grant obedience in them? Such is not the way of Rohan…"

"Ah, but he is not my man, but that of Lady Galadriel of the Golden Woods; and you would do the same, should someone show disrespect so publically to your sister…Eowyn, is it not?" the _Thranduilion_ argued, Eomer slammed his mug on the table, "If anyone spoke disrespectfully of my sister…I would kill them!" he stated vehemently, as any older sibling would.

Keldarion nodded accordingly, "You see…I could not allow him to speak such words of disrespect to my brother before a public forum, or indeed, the words at all…no matter, he will not speak them again, this I have made sure…"

"No, indeed he lives," the Elf reassured the Ranger, seeing the man's eyes widen fractionally in mistaken intention… "though in what manner after I have spoken with his Lord and Lady, remains to be seen…Grandmother has always been especially fond of Legolas…"

A soft gasp of recognition and understanding passed between the Rohan man's lips… "You mean to say the Sorceress of- I apologise, the _Lady_ of the Golden Woods is of your bloodline?" he inquired of the silent figures in the room. Neither moved, but to nod almost imperceptibly, just singularly.

"I bid you a good night, for the morrow will bring battle…and rain," the Elven Prince added after a moment's pause, and he was gone…

Eomer gazed where the Elf used to be, "He always do that?" he asked of the other…Aragorn nodded, "Believe me when I state, it is not half as annoying as when my foster brothers do it…they're identical…"

And he left Eomer to wonder after imaginings of duplicated Elves leaping from many places and scaring the stoic Ranger…or maybe that was the mead talking…

~)0(~

Stationed silently about the battlements afore any mortal had yet to rise, the Elves peered into what may be their last morning, casually watching the approaching army without emotion betraying their façade of inner and outer calm. As if this were the normal manner of things…

Theodred arose with the sun, and was swiftly adorned in his armour, even as he ate of the meager breakfast served to him…though he knew, most of the supplies had been distributed as equally as possible, and the majority having been given to the many women and children who hid, even now, below the city in caves…

"Tell me, how do they fare…the men?" he asked of Eomer, who was also dressed for battle and at his side, as ever. The younger man parted his lips as if to speak, but it was not his deep voice that issued forth, "They fear for themselves, their wives and children, for family and friends they may never live to see again ere the battle go ill…" supplied the soft, though authoritative voice of another.

Rohan's King turned to be greeted by the dark haired Elven Prince, whose nimble fingers and elven speed found their way to a loose strap upon his armour that had seemingly been missed…

"There now, my Lord, it would not do for you to be slain for a minor flaw…" the hint of steel in his eyes belied the mirth of his words, "I ask nothing of you in this hour, but to walk with me, for we must speak alone…"

Theoden waved a hand at the attendants, who fled with all haste, and even Eomer waited a mere moment before departing…and indeed, they came to be alone; being gallant as always, even in the discomforting presence of one far older and fairer than he would ever hope to be, the Rohirric King gestured for the other to make for the door first. Keldarion strode out ahead of the man, waiting beyond the thick-set wooden doorframe, for the other to follow…

~)0(~

They journeyed up the battlements, making for the sentries posted about, man and Elf, side by side in ease and vigilance. "See how this war defeats Sauron with not a drop yet shed?" whispered the Prince, some strange expression on his face as he saw one of Mirkwood's warriors chatting companionably to the man beside her, "The Dark One sought to sunder and divide the Races, by standing together we defeat his purpose with our will alone…"

Seeing the logic, Theoden smiled, more at ease than when they had begun this walk, "There is great wisdom in your words…Sauron would to be wary of you, and of your brother also, I assume?" the Human king jested of the other. A far-away gleam of mischief flared in the blue elven eyes, "True, Lord, true…mischief and determination run deep through our veins, but it is truly our will to succeed in saving this world afore we leave it, which sets us apart from our kindred.

Many of those who once inhabited the Realms have sailed with the Lady Galadriel…a certain Elfling you were acquainted with before I arrived was also to leave these shores, but instead he took to a foolhardy Quest, to your gain, My Lord. Father rarely suffers to send his warriors beyond the Elven Realms, for if they fell on foreign soil, who should bury them properly…?

Though he seems cold to those who only meet him once, our King's heart is as great and caring for his people as yours…thus it took many moons of _carefully-worded argumentation _afore he granted us leave…"

Theoden raised an eyebrow, but held his tongue at the use of words…having been a parent himself –first to Theodred, then to his Sister's children, Eomer and Eowyn- he knew the colourful mannerisms children often employed in their speech to objectify the fact they had most likely been begging…still, it brought a smile to his lips…

"And I would to invite your Lord Father, and King, to a feast in Honour of our Victory!" he offered, clapping the Elf on the back, parentally; Keldarion smiled, "I am certain Father would enjoy such things…" the words were distant again, as if he watched something further away…

~)0(~

The Lady Eowyn of Rohan was…strong-willed, if one was to put it mildly…never demure in her actions unless under a façade enabling her to appear without suspicion, and on this day, she employed such a tactic to her advantage. "I would not to be herded like cattle into that cage you have constructed, for I greatly fear it!" she cried sadly, her voice hinting notes of fear and distress, the eyelashes batting swiftly in succession and making her look quite feminine.

Sadly, such measures had never worked on her brother, Eomer, who now shepherded the women and children deeper within the caves; they were making for the secret entrance to the pass through the mountains…though she had no wish to go!

Allowing her shoulders to slump, she allowed him the satisfaction of believing he had won…and slipped into shadow, only to bump into another warm body, her soft scream was hidden in a slender hand. Gazing upwards, blue eyes twinkled with interest and mischief, "It seems you do not wish to hide from this fight, my Lady Eowyn?" smiled the Elf as he released her.

Stepping forwards to distance them by appropriate standards, Eowyn turned to gaze at the golden-haired Prince of Elves… "No, I wish to be useful…I will take up arms naked, if it must be so…"

His eyes flared in surprise, "My Lady, as…_interesting_ and _unusual_ a technique as that may be in effectively stopping our enemies in their tracks…I would to offer you a better solution, would you deign to come with me?" he asked, pale hand outstretched and glowing softly as moonlight, in the darkness.

With no hesitation, she took it, and they raced into the day…

~)0(~

His eyes narrowed, what was his brother doing with the mortal female?

Of great beauty and inner fire was she, to be certain…but still, terribly, mortal…and, by Elbereth! What was he doing racing through the battlements with her hand clasped in his? Oh, Father would kill him…for so many reasons…

"Your Majesty?" queried the mortal King by his side, and he turned back to the man, "I must beg your pardon I believed I saw-…but I was mistaken, please…continue!" he apologized, placing the appropriate expression of interest on his face as the man continued to talk, watching the happy pair from the corner of his eyes…

~)0(~

Aragorn sat by Gimli, who sharpened his axe haft to perfection…so there would be no mistake who would win this day's competition… Both were startled when a flushed Eowyn and beaming Legolas burst through the door to the abandoned barracks they had decided to share with the Mirkwood warriors…

The lone female Elf in the room turned in surprise from where she packed up her spare outfit, finding no use for it…but was halted by her Prince… "Wait, Allera! We have need of your extra armour, would you be so good as to properly adorn the Lady Eowyn for combat? Else she had threatened to go to battle in naught but the skin the Valar blessed her with…" he stated.

~)0(~

Allera's eyes went wide, visions of the mortal woman slashing and hewing through the waves of Orcs in nothing at all swimming behind her almond eyes…she hefted the spare tunic, breeches and armour, "As amusing as such a sight would be, My Lady Eowyn, I believe it would be best to adorn you in something sturdier then mere flesh…Come, I know you would be uncomfortable changing here, we may use the bathroom for our purposes…"

And the older Elf was gone, steering the young mortal woman before her…

~)0(~

His mouth hung open, "Did she truly…?" he asked, lips scarcely forming the required words afore a certain Elf answered, "Most assuredly, therefore I offered her the services of a spare set of armour…I had hoped either Allera, Videl or Syven was still here, I know they, of all the females that came, always have a spare set of armour about their packs…"

"Laddie, 'twas a clever plan! Though now, it seems there is another who may beat you in our game, for I feel in the mood to invite Eowyn to be involved…as a child of Rohan, she must surely be skilled in War craft? I would wager she would even beat you!" huffed the Dwarf, shifting upon his seat, whetstone forgotten for the moment.

"That she is," attested Aragorn, "I myself, have faced her and she is formidable…you would be wise not to anger her…" Stated the Ranger, wisely; they, all three, turned as one when the newly-clad Eowyn stepped from the bathroom to reveal her new form in the borrowed armour…

It was truly a good fit, though Allera was an inch in height over the Shieldmaiden, the entire outfit seemed to hold firm to her body and the steel to cover what needed to be protected…

"It suits you, Eowyn…but it seems you are lacking something…a weapon!" stated the Ranger, but already, Legolas was there, holding out a bejeweled sword seemingly from nowhere… "Take this, My Lady…Keldarion brought it with him on the long journey here, it was our Mother's sword…Lord Elrond had a vision that a young warrioress may need it. So I give it to you now, use it well…"

She grasped the hilt in reverence as Allera fell to her knees with hand clasped in Elvish salute to her chest, such a gift was not given lightly… "Thank you…I will cherish it…" she whispered, and Legolas moved around her to pull Allera to her feet. "I thank you for the lending of your armour, Allera, you will be rewarded upon your return home to Mirkwood…"

The Elf tried to bow, but a hand stayed her, "Enough, the reverence to Queen Nimwen's memory was most appreciated, but you must not bow to me," he said in a commanding tone that near had the nearby Dwarf fall from his chair…

Allera nodded and left the room, bow in hand, to take her post upon the wall…

Aragorn cleared his throat, "Come, we must make ready, afore the battle is upon us while we sit idle…"

~)0(~

What was this?

The human female now bore Elvish armour, and…their Mother's sword? Truly, he was infatuated with this Daughter of Rohan! He must cease this before-

A horn blew in the distance, one of foul intent…he turned to Theodred, "They come, make ready!"

~)0(~

Many rows of stoic-faced Elves struggled to retain their composure, for all they could hear was a Dwarf's complaints about the height of the wall; though their Prince, or for some _Mirkwood's Prince, _had cause to send a few delicate and swiftly subdued giggles through their ranks.

"Shall I describe it to you…or would you like me to find you a box?" jested Legolas, gazing at the Dwarf; Keldarion resisted the urge to roll his eyes under the golden circlet adorning his brow and settled for a soft smile. Ah, Legolas! Ever the Elfling and cheer-bringer in any situation…Though his protective Older Brother side worried after him…despite that his brother had proven his worth as a warrior many times over…

Lightning flashed, illuminating the sheer blue brilliance of Legolas's eyes, as he gazed out on the approaching army of Orcs and Uruk-hai, for they were legion and stretched almost beyond even their sight… Would they never end?

Aragorn, the man his younger brother showed great affection for as friend, brother, and on occasion…son…though he would never openly admit to the last… called out to hold their fire! A zealous human was unable to do so, and the battle was joined!

He lost sight of those dear to him in the flurry of war, firing, aiming, reloading, taking to his sword when they came upon ladders…

Not once did he see or hear the creature behind him, in all the clamour…though it's raised weapon brought his doom…

~)0(~

Haldir stepped by him as they fired endlessly, bending forwards to whisper in the pointed ear half-covered by sodden blond hair, "_My Prince, I must to apologise for my earlier actions…They were brash, arrogant and rude…Forgive me._" Legolas stopped his volley of deadly fire for a moment to turn and clasp the other's arm, "There is nothing to forgive, I apologise for anything Keldarion may have done to you…it is just his way… I will see you at Battle's end, may the Valar protect you!"

And the March Warden was gone, surprise and relief etched into the disappearing face as Legolas turned back to face the battlefront, "…twenty-eight…" he muttered. The Dwarf, however, was far more vocal than he, "…fifteen! Sixteen! Seven- what did the windbag want? –teen! Eighteen!"

"Forgiveness, …twenty-nine… but I would not give it, for none was needed…he has my blessing…thirty…and it seems I am winning again!" laughed the Elf, as he heard the Dwarf swear loudly. "My, such language, Gimli!"

"Legolas!" came the cry, he turned, elven eyes squinting into the rain to espy the familiar speaker…Aragorn gestured feverishly to something upon the field…a burning torch and it's bearer came tearing through the lines of Orcs…It was not yet half-way to them, though there was activity beneath a grate by the- no! Oh, Valar, no!

Saruman was truly a twisted creature!

He raised his bow at Aragorn's insistence, but something else caught his eye…Keldarion! An Uruk-hai loomed over him like the specter of Death, but his brother seemed not to see or hear it, distracted by the many Orcs who pressed in from all sides. The foul creature's weapon began to fall…

Aragorn continued to yell, though his bow was strung, it quivered in indecision…awaiting his choice…

And a terrible choice it was…his enemy…or his brother?

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**NextChapter 8: An End of All Things...**


	8. Chapter 8: An End of All Things

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings...etc...**

**Final Chapter! This is it, the absolute _Last Chapter_ of this Epic Story, I hope you enjoy it as much as you did all the other chapters...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8: An End of All Things…<strong>

**~)0(~**

He swung towards Keldarion, releasing the arrow half-way there and distantly hearing as it thudded into the thick, dark flesh of the torch-bearer…while his deft fingers immediately reached for the familiar white handle of one of the ornate knives at his back...

The blade spun through the air with deadly precision, slamming home within the Uruk-hai's flesh, successfully stopping it in it's tracks…it chocked, gurgled and crumpled into a heap of lifeless flesh…Keldarion looked up with eyes wild with surprise…meeting his own, and nodded.

Aragorn still screamed, not having seen the near-death rescue of the Crown Prince, and gestured even more ferociously than before for Legolas to shoot down the Uruk-hai pounding the slushy mud of the rain-sodden earth…it drew to close to get an accurate shot from where he stood on the battlements. Still, he notched the arrow and tried, if only to assuage the burning shame and guilt in his heart, if he missed…

The arrow sunk home in foul flesh, as had the first, though it refused to die…instead throwing itself, suicidally, into the final act for it's Master in the White Tower…

And the world was full of cold fire…

~)0(~

Dead, in his arms, lay the March Warden, and Aragorn grieved the loss in his heart, though was forced to his feet to defend his life in a mere instant; suddenly he espied a great danger…

Yet when he yelled to Legolas, the Elf seemed otherwise concerned, though his life was not in danger…and he missed the first time, though the shaft struck the beast's chest it did not die! He screamed again, and saw the Elf's green-clad back for a moment before the arrow was notched to a bowstring again…

The second arrow failed…how was this possible? The creature yet lived with two shafts buried deep within the flesh of it's heart!

And suddenly, that which he stood on became unstable; the air full of bricks and fire…

~)0(~

The battle became a blur, for where was his brother? Had Aragorn and Gimli fallen to their deaths? How did his people fare? …So many questions…they whirred through his mind at speeds that defied human comprehension, but one thought lingered, _This was his fault…he failed to kill the Uruk-hai, and now so many of his people, his friends and comrades, were dead!_

The bow slipped from his hands, slick with rain that made it difficult for numb fingers to grasp; the other pale blade, twin to that which had saved Keldarion, rested limply in his hand as he searched the debris from the midst of battle, hoping, _straining_, to hear some rude Dwarvish expletive from either of his comrades. Legolas stumbled over a corpse and saw, to his horror, Haldir's eyes gazed back without life to light them…

A female was thrown by him, he caught the back of her tunic and pulled the slender figure from the brink of the wall; it was Allera, her body coated with blood, he turned to a nearby Elf…Syven, and instructed she drag her half-conscious comrade down to the caverns below the city.

The distraction forced his attention from the search, but sure enough, the faint stirrings of Human, Dwarf and Elf could be traced above the clamour to those below…though the momentary knowledge they lived did not outweigh the guilt had countless had died due to his ineptitude…

A familiar cry had him turn, the weapon clattering from his grip, as he confronted the horror of Syven and Allera having been pierced by wicked looking daggers…No! They were leaving the Battle! How could they?

In his heart, he knew Orcs to be mindless, but the sheer Malice in the Uruk-hai's eyes gave him pause…there was intelligence there he dared not guess at…it eyed him, moving forwards, but there was no time to face it. For behind him arose a clamour, Aragorn and Gimli had taken leave of their senses, taking to those who besieged the front gates of the ancient fortress of Helms Deep…he must get to them!

Something sharp plunged into his shoulder…

~)0(~

Eyes wide with horror, Keldarion saw his brother's guilt-ridden inattentiveness turn into his death, for a huge beast of Saruman's design and marking had obviously targeted the seemingly oblivious Prince…

"Nooooooooooooooooo!" his cry was lost in the thunder of the Storm and Battle…

~)0(~

Swiping out at the blade as it lunged for the Prince's unguarded back, she managed to slam the Uruk-hai back; darting between the two as it attempted to skewer the Elven Lord with the second of two darkly gleaming daggers… Blood pooled from the first wound, and she shuddered, but slammed the jewel-encrusted sword home…feeling a vengeance that was almost…not her own…

Sagging at her feet as a dead weight, she kicked at it's head for good measure, afore turning to see to the injured Elf by her side…

Blood-soaked, the cold steel weapon lay in his hand, the crimson liquid looked to be a shimmery silver version of her own…and the wound bled freely; he discarded the item as if it were nothing and bent for his dagger. Eowyn quickly grabbed the nearby bow, afore it was trampled…

He took it from her hand and smiled with pale lips, "I thank you, Lady Eowyn, you have saved my life…I must go and rescue a foolish human cub, and the dwarf…but I shall return. In the meantime, stay safe…here," he pulled something off a finger and passed it to her, Eowyn gazed at the tiny golden circle of ornate leaves, "take this as a symbol of my gratitude. Until the battle is over, My Lady…"

And he was gone, leaving her to slip the ring on, ignorant of it's significance, and continue in this seemingly endless battle…

~)0(~

Dozens of heroic feats accompanied the next few moments…pulling Aragorn and Gimli up, single-handed, being the chief one…for Aragorn took note of the sticky red substance oozing down his shoulder and bade him leave for the safety of the citadel, as Théoden called the retreat.

Mean and remaining Elves reluctantly made for the safe haven of stone walls and sturdy wooden doors…

"At least let me bind it!" the Human compromised, when the stubborn blond Elf refused to see one of the Healers below, and exit the battle altogether…and it would have remained so, had not a certain family member intervened, "Sit down, brother, let _Estel_ bind it at least…how else will you aim as we ride out?" Keldarion reasoned.

Legolas sat, partly in relief, the rest glaring at this brother through normally cheerful blue eyes…

Tearing a strip from his own tunic where it was cleanest, he handed it over to Aragorn; the Human bowed his head in thanks and set about temporarily tying some form of makeshift over the deep wound…it seeped blood still, but sluggishly, which was good sign. As was the lack of poison…which made a refreshing change to Keldarion's mind…countless were the times Aragorn and Legolas had ridden into the Elven Realms half-dead from a poisoned wound…

~)0(~

Eowyn hovered by them, half in shadow lest-

"Eowyn!" bellowed Theoden.

-exactly that happened…

~)0(~

His head snapped up when he heard her name called, Eomer and Theoden stood with looks of surprise and bewilderment a the Elvish-clad Shieldmaiden; her borrowed armour now spattered with Orc blood, as was the blade she carried…

He rose, despite Aragorn and Keldarion's protestations, and strode over to meet them at the same time as Eowyn herself… "My Lords, I can explain…I granted the Lady the use of one of my warrior's armour, and that of Queen Nimwen's sword, it was only done in the interests of her safety. Though she may now keep the armour," he turned to look Eowyn in the eyes, "for Allera is dead. The sword you may keep also, for it is well-suited to you…and you may need it yet."

Eomer's mouth opened and shut, no sound issuing forth as of yet; Theoden stared the impassive Elf in the eyes and eventually sighed, "What you did was for the best and I thank you for your kind actions, Your Majesty."

"If that is your decision, Eowyn, would you ride out with us as your Uncle has suggested? Gimli has taken to sounding the great horn, and you may ride behind me on Arod, provided you can survive without saddle…?" he offered, a hint of teasing in the last question…

She huffed theatrically, "I accept, for I have no fear of riding bare-back…Let us go this instant!" she said, enthusiastically…

And King Theoden intoned, "Let the Horn of Hel-Hamahand Ring out, one last time!"

~)0(~

He did not fail to see the way the human woman rode at his brother's back during the final attack, nor the way he set her down from the animal afterwards, smiling and clasping her arm as if she were another Elven Warrior…

This had to- And then he saw the ring…

~)0(~

"My Lady, you have truly proven yourself to be equal to any Warrior of Mirkwood!" smiled Legolas as he helped her slide from the horse in an unfamiliar outfit, she beamed in response, "Truly? Such high praise, indeed!"

Her fingers danced to the ring on her hand, they twirled it and her lips moved, almost reluctantly, "My Lord, I must return what you once entrusted to me in battle…for you have returned as you said you would!" she said, but the Elf held up a hand.

"Nay, it is both gift and Promise; I gift you this, the Ring of Mirkwood, worn only by my family, as a mere symbol of my gratitude for saving my life on the battlefield…and know, that this symbol of friendship and help will always be honoured as long as Elves dwell in my Homeland. Should Rohan, or indeed, you alone, need assistance; send this ring with any message and I, or another, will come immediately…with or without an army, as the need dictates…" he smiled.

Her blue eyes shone with gratitude, and she flung her arms about him, "Than you, My Lord, without your generosity I myself would have died upon that battlement…the armour deflected many a killing blow afore I found you. Know you and your people will always be welcome in my Uncle's Land as long as I, and my descendants, draw breath on this world."

~)0(~

Keldarion's eyes grew wide, the mortal played with the trinket on her finger, then flung her arms about his brother…? Maybe he was mistaken or…

"Lighten up, Laddie, you're brooding is making me edgy!" huffed the Dwarf who had seemingly appeared from nowhere all at once…Aragorn clapped him on the shoulder, "You are lucky she hasn't turned her affections on you, or indeed, your brother…for we'd never rescue either of you in time! She is quite a remarkable woman, I must admit, and a great warrior…without her, Legolas would be dead…come, let us introduce you…"

Suddenly Keldarion was being steered towards them, Legolas turned to face the group, "Ah, brother, have you met the Lady Eowyn, Shieldmaiden of Rohan? So determined was she to go into battle, she threatened to do it sans clothing…so I offered her the use of an extra set we always have, Allera was kind enough to donate hers…and Mother's sword. Though it seems it was destined…for she saved my life…"

But Keldarion's eyes were firmly fixed upon the Royal Ring of Mirkwood, the golden band of leaves that signified their family's position as Rulers and, for their part, Future Rulers of the forest…Legolas followed his gaze, seeming to surmise what the other was thinking and opened his mouth to dispel such thoughts, when-

Too late…they were doomed…though none could have predicted what came next…

~)0(~

Keldarion was incensed and exceptionally surprised that Legolas would choose this mortal (though beautiful) and made clear his thoughts…not realizing…

"Truly brother? Of all the mortals, you choose one so short-lived…" he gestured to Epowyn, and bowed in apology, "I mean no offence my lady, but…of all the mortals… Why…even _Aragorn_ would have been a better choice!"

Prince Keldarion and Gimli simply gazed on in surprised amusement as Aragorn, Eowyn and Legolas looked first to one another, as if sharing a private joke and burst out laughing…

Leaving those around them to stare on in confusion…

_**THE END**_

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**Hope you enjoyed this story... ~*SailorSilvanesti*~**


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